


A Queen and Her King

by stfulia



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, it's just shameless sex, smut with nice metaphors?? lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18313022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stfulia/pseuds/stfulia
Summary: “Fuck you for that,” she mutters, voice rough with an intoxicating blend of frustration and wanting.“Oh, you will.” Rolling her eyes, Syndra kisses Zed, both smiling when their lips first meet.The sorceress doesn’t hold back on biting his tongue and grinding her hips down onto him during the heated exchange. She unraveled under his touches, but now he will serve as her throne.





	A Queen and Her King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oceanbourne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbourne/gifts).



> As promised, I'm posting this self-indulgent drabble. Thank you Ocean for fixing up my awkward dialogue, you're a lifesaver <3

It’s a strange sensation, yet not a bad one. The shadow seems incorporeal at first, but Syndra finds that she cannot move her hands from their position above her head and pinned onto the mattress. She didn’t expect the shadow magic to feel like much of anything, but the steady warmth emanating from the restraint locking onto her wrists proves otherwise.

“Can you move them at all?”

“No,” she states with a small shake of her head.

A ghost of a smirk crosses Zed’s lips as he gazes at Syndra’s form on the bed. She’s allowing him a rare display of vulnerability to whatever he wishes to enact upon her resting body, a willing offering of her power. Anticipation flickers in Zed’s gaze as he crawls onto the bed with her. It would be foolish to compare such a desire to a candle’s flame when she knows the full extent of his passions, the force of a raging forest fire contained in that hungry gaze.

He hovers over Syndra, commanding her absolute attention to him with his slow and meticulous touches. There’s something magnetic about him which draws the sorceress’ attention to him, something which had always separated him from the rest of the pack. That sort of authority is hard to find, perhaps rarer than the shadow arts he wields. It entices her.

Zed slowly lavishes Syndra’s body, whether it’s done with his mouth or his hands. It starts with mere brushes over her skin as he undresses her and gradually progresses to firmer strokes across her body. Her impatience rises and she makes her frustration known to him. “I don’t plan on being here all day, Zed.”

“Don’t worry about your plan. Just focus on me.”

She huffs but says nothing else for now. He resumes his attentive worship with a distinct sense of satisfaction, making her grit her teeth. Syndra feels his smirk when he applies his lips to her neck, teeth grazing and nipping at her skin in admonishment for her impertinence.

With every touch, he gauges her reaction. In this way, he maps out the sensitive regions on her body and exploits them. A brush over her hip bone raises goose bumps over her skin; red marks sucked onto her breasts makes her toes curl. As much as she was hesitant at first, the tension is being eased out of her body. Syndra closes her eyes and almost instantly, the hands exploring her form are retracted, their ghostly trails of heat dissipating from her skin and into the air.

“Look at me.”

When she doesn’t comply, a hand grips her chin firmly as Zed shifts closer to her. “Open your eyes to me, Syndra,” a clear command as well as a warning.

Perhaps it’s something in his voice, perhaps it’s her own curiosity, but she does not obey his command. If he truly believes he can bend the will of a sovereign so easily, he’s sorely mistaken. It’s Syndra’s turn to smirk when she hears a heavy exhale.

“Fine, have it your way. If you won’t look when I ask it of you, you won’t look at all.”

Confusion briefly finds its way onto her face, but it’s dispelled swiftly as the distinct magic wraps itself around her head and across her eyes.

“It’s temporary, of course.” She can hear the smirk in his tone. So pleased with himself for taking the power she willingly gives to him on a silver platter.

As much as Zed is different, she is always reminded in these moments that he’s merely a man. Indignation pulses inside her. She’s sorely tempted to use her own arts to dispel the shadows. But that would mean defeat; he knows this fact as clearly as she does. Syndra holds herself back.

“Of course,” she responds in a silken tone, only the slightest edge to her voice. “But if I conclude that you cannot satisfy me effectively, you will regret your actions.”

“I’ll ensure you don’t come to such a conclusion.”

And there it is, something different which only he can offer her. That utter self-confidence thrills Syndra as much as it had annoyed her when she first encountered him. A man who’s confident in his ability to carry out his will, it’s very attractive. It’s safe to say that she won’t give up even a semblance of control over to any person who doesn’t know exactly what they’re doing.

Methodically, Zed unravels her body and comes to know every single secret she’s buried, not expecting anyone to get close enough to her in order to uncover them. As a result of the impromptu blindfold, she’s left completely unaware of his next actions, whether his next purposeful touch will bring her pleasure or pain. Begrudgingly, she’ll admit that her anticipation is heightened.

Layer by layer, Zed takes her apart. She relishes every bit of it, her body tense with desire. When his fingers finally work their way into her heat so precisely, stroking the fire at her centre, her breathing grows unsteady as the tension rises and rises further. As one hand works at her core, his other hand preoccupies itself with gripping her breasts and toying with them, alternating from massaging them to twisting sharply.

“Breathe deeply, Syndra. Control over your breathing makes this exercise a lot smoother.” His words are a lighthouse amidst the dark ocean as he murmurs them across her skin. Yet she does not heed the advice, perhaps out of sheer spite.

Her body is a wound bow, ready to let the arrows fly — a deadly instrument in the hands of a master.

The waves of pleasure only grow stronger, threatening to pull Syndra underwater entirely. She takes a deep breath but finds that it’s too late. Right as she’s about to sink, his touches cease entirely. It takes her far more willpower than she’d easily admit to not thrust her body upwards, to push her hips into the air in frustration. But his touches will not return as a result of such an undignified action, so Syndra remains still, breathing heavily and slowly regaining her composure.

“Is this your method of satisfying me? It’s not very well executed.”

“And whose fault is that?” The amusement in his tone is all too clear.

“Fine. I’ll fucking breathe. Just continue.”

Zed gives a deep chuckle against her chest as he begins his work once more, plunging his fingers inside of her without hesitation and pulsing them, emboldened by her reactions. Arching her back, she gasps as she’s bought right back to the edge within merely a few thrusts. Syndra breathes and holds onto her pleasure as she feels the tension beginning to snap. The thrusts slow by a few margins. (Oh, how she exhales in frustration.)

“Don’t try to hold back, Syndra. Ride the crest instead of succumbing to it.”

Syndra only nods, wordless as she waits for him to resume his pace. Zed continues his performance as if he senses the pressure of her will pressing down on him, conducting her as if she’s a symphony. The third time, she’s more prepared for it. Her deep breaths soothe the process, as he had promised. How she aches to use her hands to bring herself over the edge!

She knows her body better than anyone, a few seconds of her purposeful touches would tip the scales over and bring forth the storm. But she remains helpless to her lover’s will, the power dynamic infuriating yet so utterly arousing that she’s left dizzy by its wake. Her arms are tense, straining against the magic and the will of a man who excels at testing her own will.

She is unsure of how many times this repeats. Somewhere along the line, the waves of pleasure had grown mingled and intertwined with each other. The pleasure simply doesn’t fade as her body is kept taut by his command.

“You’ve done well so far.”

Syndra snorts before she replies, the sound somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Only well?”

“Yes. You sound frustrated. Have I not done a good job of giving you pleasure?”

She’s silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a proper answer. Her body aches for it, craves for that release which he’s kept from her grasp so deftly. The shadows in front of her eyes clear, the sudden light making her squint.

This lapse in control is what Zed seizes, picking up on her moment of weakness like a bloodhound. “If you want something, ask for it promptly.”

She takes a breath. “Let me have it.”

Mock consideration enters his tone. “Hm, you don’t sound like you want it enough. Perhaps you don’t deserve it.”

It’s then when she cracks, words spilling from her lips like water from cracked pottery. “Fuck. Please let me cum, Zed. I need release.”

“Do you think you’re deserving of it?”

“Yes, I’ve fucking earned it.”

Her eyes follow him as he moves to a wide couch, positioned conveniently close to the bed. Zed meets her eyes as he undresses himself fully, rising to her challenge. In the moment Zed sits down upon the cushioned surface, the binding on her wrists loosen then dissipates utterly.

“If you want it so badly, you’ll work for it. Come to me.”

He did not need to tell her twice. Magic lifting her body upwards, she swiftly floats from the sweat-stained sheets and over to Zed’s ready embrace. As soon as she lands, Syndra grabs his face. Her forehead bumps into his and she sees him smirk.

“Fuck you for that,” she mutters, voice rough with an intoxicating blend of frustration and wanting.

“Oh, you will.” Rolling her eyes, Syndra kisses Zed, both smiling when their lips first meet.

The sorceress doesn’t hold back on biting his tongue and grinding her hips down onto him during the heated exchange. She unraveled under his touches, but now he will serve as her throne. Zed’s hands grips onto her hips, all of his low groans swallowed by her lips. She doesn’t bother breaking the kiss as she forces his hands from her body, slamming them behind his back with a little more force than necessary.

When Syndra opens her eyes, she’s sure that they’re aglow with magic.

It’s her turn to pull the strings. Reaching downwards, she gives his cock a few pumps with her hand before lining it up against her entrance. His growls are like music to her.

“You’re this eager just from pleasuring me?”

“Quit the teasing,” he grunts, words accompanied by a sharp thrust of his hips upwards towards her heat. Such impatience excites her; it tells Syndra that he hungers for her just as much as she does for him. The strong response makes her throw her head back in amusement, laughing at his eagerness. But enough is enough; she grows as tired of this game as her lover.

“Oh, I will.” With that, she slams her hips downwards onto him, both of them shuddering with the intensity. She pulls herself back up and begins to work herself slowly on his length. Her hands are upon his shoulders, knuckles white with tension. While she rides him, Syndra enjoys gauging his facial reactions. His jaw is clenched shut, smoldering eyes upon her visage as if he cannot get enough of her, as if he's using his eyes in his hands' stead.

She keeps her pace, steadily moving up and down. Syndra captures his lips once more, licking into his mouth and stealing his breath, the taste of fire on her tongue. Zed is the one who pulls away from the kiss with a groan.

“Fuck, Syn…”

“Do you want something, Zed?”

His response is instant. “Let me fuck you properly,” he growls, mouth pressing close to her ear. The five words makes her gasp, surprise making the sorceress lose her hold on his hands. Before she could seize it again, Zed’s hands are gripping onto her hips - surely tightly enough to leave bruises. But she doesn’t care because he’s thrusting into her, moving his hips upwards as he brings her body down to him. She doesn’t care because finally, finally he’s going to give her what she needs.

“Give it all to me, my king.”

Both of them are dedicated towards a singular goal, a common destination. bodies in tune with each other. Her arms wrap around Zed as he licks and bites at her skin, the vibrations from his groans making her shudder. She doesn’t keep quiet, giving up throaty moans of pleasure and pitched keens as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge.

It’s not long before the blinding pleasure wreaks havoc upon her body, making her cry out as she clamps down on his cock with a vice-like hold. He chases his own release, fucking Syndra through her own climax. It takes a few more thrusts, once, twice, thrice before Zed unravels also, teeth sinking into her neck as he finishes inside of her, the sting making her groan.

The two stay in that position for a while, until the sensation of moisture leaking down her thighs makes Syndra pull away and grimace. Zed gives a chuckle, presumably when he sees the expression she makes. She doesn’t try to stand just yet, instead opting to hover above the ground.

“Let’s clean up. Then you can tell me all about how well I did.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as he stands up. Syndra brings herself close to Zed, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him gently.  “We still have all night to talk. Well, what’s left of it.” He replies in a rumble.

“That sounds good to me,” Syndra murmurs, face gladly meeting the warmth of Zed’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always welcome, comments save authors!
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://danceblades.tumblr.com/).
> 
> EDITED 15 JULY 2019: I fixed up some phrasing and generally tried to make it a better reading experience.
> 
> — with love, Lia.


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